Night Tide Turning
by grail101
Summary: Jack has gone - more questions than answers are left in his wake
1. Chapter 1

Smuggler : Night Tides Turning

Chapter 1

Firelight played across her face. Sipping the fourth cup of tea made by her Grandfather in a hope to distract her, she sat – focused only on the flames before her.

"I am sure he will return soon"

Captain Koenig smiled, placing his hand gently on his granddaughter's knee. "He is rarely gone longer than a week". Placing her hand over his she sighed: rarely a week, but often shorter was her wordless reply.

Deciding that for tonight there was little else that could be done, her grandfather slowly stood, heading to bed. He would leave her to sit and wait, as she had done for the past 10 days. Jack Vincent was nothing he had expected for his grandchild, a ruffian, at times vulgar and brash, yet he had integrity, inconsistent with his chosen life as a smuggler, which Koenig admired. Jack's absence was keenly felt, and though Koenig could not condone the attachment that had developed, he had decided to not stand in its way.

"Goodnight my darling", he leaned in to kiss her upon the forehead; she turned slightly to acknowledge him, smiling slightly, before returning to her quiet vigil.

With her grandfather's departure the room fell into a darkened silence. She had waved away the servants' hours ago, without their regular attendance to the fire; the flames had begun to falter. Absently poking the embers her mind drifted.

Jack had asked her to trust him, pulling her closely; he had kissed her just before her admission of love. Then nothing, he had gone, turning to the sea. Honesty had visited her a couple of days later enquiring if she had seen him. Usually he would know of Jack's plans, even if Jack had not shared them, Honesty had a way of discovering where Jack had sailed and the cargo he intended to bring with him. That Honesty appeared genuinely confused as to his whereabouts had been her first sense of something wrong.

A few days after Honesty's visit she had gone to his home. The weather had invaded through the windows, dirt dusted the floor and plates, which had been left discarded on the table, were now caked with mould. Several hours after, stripped of her finery, smeared with the labor of the day she had waited.

The sun had dipped into the ocean whilst the night crawled across the hills. Still she waited, climbing upstairs to lay her weary body upon his bed, an imposition she was aware, yet too tired to care. She could smell him upon the sheets, strangely calming, the familiarity passed through her clothes to rest upon her skin. Had Honesty not returned she might well have stayed all night, curled within the comfort of his world.

That was days ago, she had heard no word, nor returned to his home. She was sure by now the house would have resumed its state of disrepair, wiping her presence from his world. Maybe that's how easy it was for him, to remove her from his life – just let time accumulate in layers, covering what once was to what might never be.

The fire had burnt itself to blackened wood, a chill had climbed into the air, she shivered and stood. Making her way up the stairs to her room, she reminded herself to the thank Jenny in the morning for kindling the fire in her bedroom before she had retired; the warmth greeted her as she opened the door.

Quickly changing she slipped between the sheets, her mind began to drift, sleep gently tugged at her consciousness pulling it deeper into a twilight world of half-truths and imagined realities.

In such a state she failed to notice the window to her bedroom, slightly opened – the wind dancing with the curtain edge.


	2. Chapter 2

Smuggler : Night Tides Turning

Chapter 2

Leaning against the wall he was able to view the length of her bed. Sarah was curled tightly under the sheets, yet was unsettled, she turned fitfully from side to side. He remained quiet in the shadows, watching her.

He had returned to English shores a few hours before, arriving at his home he had noticed the wilted flowers littered across the neatly stacked plates. Sarah had been here, her gentle touch apparent.

He had thought to wait until the morning before visiting The Hall – a roll of deep blue silk to be delivered as a gift. Standing in his doorway, sensing her presence, an overwhelming need pressed upon him to see her.

It was not the first time that he had climbed into her window; previously he had entered to accuse her of betrayal. As soon as the words had left his lips, the widening of her eyes had answered him. It had not been her, could never have been her.

As he remained pressed into the wall he considered their situation – which was impossible. Against all reason he had grown to need her within his life, she was a lady of standing in the community her grandfather respected and moneyed. He was a smuggler, a spy, more than that a disgraced naval officer, living hand to mouth.

"Jack" his name escaped her lips, though she remained asleep.

Reason walked away as Jack moved toward her bed, sitting at her side he held her shoulder, settling her body.

"Sarah", whispering close to her face, "sleep, I will visit the Hall tomorrow, please sleep"

"Jack", she moaned again, slightly smiling though still wrapped in sleep. She stretched her body to roll into his grip upon her shoulder. The covers fell slightly to reveal her neck, smooth and vulnerable. Temptation washed over him, the paleness of her skin inviting him to her. Leaning down he pressed his lips upon her, inhaling her scent as he moved briefly into the warm comfort of her neck. They had kissed before, chastely at his door, in the corridor of the Hall, but this, now in her room, he wanted more – she woke.

"Jack!" turning into him, he stood quickly from her bed, turning almost ashamed at his momentary eagerness.

"When did you get back?" he stumbled slightly in response, still embarrassed by his actions.

"Tonight…I was bringing you this", leaning over to the table he reached for the package to hand to her. Then stood back, heading towards the window.

"Where are you going?" she demanded as he continued to step away. Forgetting modesty the sheets had fallen from covering her night gown. Firelight framed her as she sat upright.

"Sarah its late, I will return tomorrow – please go back to sleep"

"Don't go"

"What?"

"Don't go, you have been gone so long – I've missed you" she held her hand outstretched towards him "I want you to stay, at least awhile, please stay with me"

"Sarah its not…it's not right"

With this she smiled, partly removed herself from the bed to lean forward so as to take him by the hand. Pulling him back to her.

He allowed himself to be sat back upon the bed, truth be known he did not want to fight her; he did not want to leave. The taste of her still lingered upon his lips.

She sat before him, smiling sweetly, leaning into him. So innocent, he almost felt uncomfortable with the unquestioned trust she put in him. If only she knew the thoughts, which flooded through his mind at that moment, she would blush and throw him from the room. Instead, she gently traced his cheek with her finger, running down his neck to the opening of his shirt. At this point she leaned in further, kissing his chest, he groaned, her hands moved lower.

"Sarah stop!" he snapped her back – holding each shoulder pushed her to arms length. Looking straight into her eyes.

"Jack", she pushed forward against him, what little resistance existed, was lost as her lips reached up to his, her tongue gently teasing his. At first unsure, she was encouraged as his arms moved around her waist to pull her tight against him. Chaste kisses were forgotten, as over a week of waiting, wondering was lost in urgency and rising desire. Thought escaped them both as Jack's body moved to cover hers, his weight holding her beneath him as he resumed the exploration of her neck started only moments before – this time he did not stop, moving further down, pulling her gown from her shoulder, he wanted to consume her. Her body rose under his in eager response.

Pausing briefly for breath, he pulled his shirt from his body. She had not seen him like his before, trembling her hands ran upon his chest, feeling each groove and muscle. Her hand stopped at ill wrapped bandage about his waist.

"An accident" he mumbled "on the boat". She pressed a little into the wound, causing a grimace.

He pushed himself above her, so as to allow him full sight of her face. Smiling inanely at her beauty and willingness, he momentarily forgot his recent injury.

"I want you", he mumbled into her ear, whilst nibbling just behind.

"And I you" she managed to groan, as Jack's hand slowly moved to lift her gown, to run along her naked hip.

She could feel the truth of his words in the pressure that was pushing into her thigh. Fumbling for his belt, she giggled, causing him to pause.

"This isn't right, not … not like this"

She frowned "not like what!" her hand rested upon his belt.

So beautiful, he thought, and so innocent – so wrong for her to give all of herself to him. "Sarah, we can talk, tomorrow – you, we are not thinking straight tonight"

The slap was unexpected; being pushed from the bed, clothes thrown at his head was a surprise. The mug hurled at his head was bewildering.

"Get out! Get out! How dare you GET OUT"

"Shhhh, you'll wake the whole house" he realized as he clambered from the window, various crockery items being pummeled towards him, that this amy not been the right thing to say.

He would wait a day, then visit again – running across the grounds his need for her still firm within his trousers, he smiled. She wanted him and he her, it was impossible, yet desirable beyond reason.


End file.
